


Special Ops

by secretlyaspeedster



Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Aged Up, Damian and Jon trust each other, Damijon - Freeform, Damijon if you squint, H.I.V.E, I'm bad at plots, Jason Todd (mentioned) - Freeform, Jon and Damian are really good friends now, M/M, Mind Control, Multi, Nightwing saves the day, Queen Bee/Lady Vic if you REALLY squint, Robin - Freeform, Saving Each Other, Slight torture, Soft a little bit, Some Fluff, Special Ops Mission, Super Sons - Freeform, Superboy - Freeform, Talia is a bad mom, but I love her lmao, i hope i finish this, kinda angst, slight trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-08 02:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14684547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretlyaspeedster/pseuds/secretlyaspeedster
Summary: After receiving a special operation mission from Batman and Nightwing, the Super Sons must infiltrate the secret H.I.V.E. base and collect intell on what this organization is up to and who their mystery partner is. But what happens when a 4 hour mission is cut short when the boys are caught disturbing the bee hive that was bigger than they thought?





	1. Float like a Butterfly, Sting like a (Queen)Bee

**Author's Note:**

> Okay don't get mad if this doesn't ever get another chapter but i'm gonna try REALLY hard on this one!! Maybe this will be really long? Maybe it will only be 3 chapters? I have no clue. If this continues into summer, I'll be surprised. This was kinda just for fun, and I had the idea and didn't want to forget about it so I just decided to write about it! Enjoy! Comment ideas and stuff because I may need them wHOOP.

If Lois had to hear her son ask another question about when his new suit was coming in, she was going to have to be thrown into Arkham Asylum for losing her sanity. 

“The special ops mission is _tomorrow night_ , mom!” Jon flopped himself onto the couch dramatically, probably for the 5th time that day. “When do you think my suit will be coming in?! Please tell me we won’t be leaving the house, just in case Alfred stops by? I reeeeally wanna be here when he delivers it, cause-”

“ _Honey,_ ” Lois pinched the bridge of her nose, hard. Maybe if she did it enough, her pounding headache might subside. It hasn’t worked for the last hour. “I get it. You’re and excited, proactive 13 year old boy who can’t have even the _slightest_ ounce of patience. But you have to, _have to_ at least _try_ to have some for me, okay? Please?” 

Jon frowned, obviously feeling a bit guilty. He knows he’s been a pain for probably the past week and a half, ever since Damian informed him about a big mission assigned to them by Nightwing and Batman. Jon could hardly believe they had been trusted with this sort of thing, since it was highly advanced. Not to say that Jon didn’t think they could handle it, because they obviously, totally could!

And Jon wasn’t nervous. Nope. Not one bit.

Okay.. maybe a.. Smidge. (Is it that obvious?) 

“Sorry, ma,” he stood up as he mumbled his apology, then shuffled to his mother to give her a hug. “..I left two Advil on the counter for you this morning.. did you take them?” 

Lois shook her head and Jon groaned his disapproval. “Moooom..”

“Hun, you know it’s not good to take medicine on an empty stomach, and besides, I keep a small bottle in my purse. Once I got to work and put some food in my body--” the shrill ring of their doorbell rang through the city apartment and both Lois and Jon jumped before the raven hair boy practically _squealed _then bolted to the door.__

__He flung the door open and beamed at a spiffy-as-ever Alfred Pennyworth, box in hand, alongside a grumpy-per-usual Damian Wayne._ _

__The former assassin had _actually_ grown in the past two and a half years to a staggering (not really) 5 foot 5 from his previous height of 4 foot 11. This ultimately rubbed Jon the wrong way since he was now only barely taller than the elder. Everyone who knew the son of Batman could easily tell he was looking more like his father each and every day, but the same could not be said about their ability to deal with emotion. Damian, to most’s surprise, was gradually breaking out of his impenetrable shell. Jon liked to think that some people (including himself) were allowed to chip away at that shell little by little, to get closer to Damian Wayne. He also liked to think that other than Dami’s eldest brother, Dick Grayson, Jon was one of the only people that has been able to chip _miles_ into the shell and become close friends with the current Robin. Maybe that’s why they work so well as a team together._ _

__“You have _no_ freaking idea how long I waited for y’all to get here!” _ _

__“Jonathan.” Lois scolded her son for the rude welcoming. She turned to them and smiled warmly, offering to take Alfred’s coat. “What he meant to say was.. He’s _very_ grateful that you have taken time out of your busy life to make him a custom suit for this mission. Right, Jon?” she glared daggers at her son, who smiled sheepishly. Damian suppressed a snicker._ _

__“R-right. Thanks, Alfred. I can’t wait to try it on, I bet it’s real amazing,”_ _

__“You are quite welcome, young sir,” he smiled, then handed Jon the box. “Try this on and notify me if any adjustments are needed. If I do say so myself, the suits that you and master Damian have are some of the best I have made yet.” This made Jon’s eyes light up in pure excitement. He sped off to his room (literally) and was back within the next few seconds, decked out in his new special ops suit._ _

__The dark, charcoal grey kevlar suit was full body, neatly trimmed at the neck with dark red seams that led down to the iconic Superman ‘S’ which was red and white. White cuffs covered his wrists and ankles and he lifted his arms to fully look at the material, woven with a sort of protective armor that was thicker and stronger near his chest, abdomen, thighs and forearms. There was just one thing missing.._ _

__“What about.. acape?” he inquired quietly. Damian rolled his eyes, but explained anyways that capes were too much of a risk for this type of mission. They needed to be as light as possible, and not have any chances of getting snagged on something, ect ect. He told Jon that he would not be wearing a cape either._ _

__“It looks amazing. Alfred, you are a true designer.” Lois complimented as she pulled out her phone to snap a quick picture of her son._ _

__“Mom..” Jon flushed, embarrassed. He looked over at Damian, who _also_ had his phone out, taking as many photos as he could. Jon huffed out a breath and stormed over to his friend, snatching the device from his hands. He deleted all the pictures and completely ignored his friend’s complaints and warning to get his greasy hands off of the screen._ _

__Alfred leaned over to Lois. “Would it be any trouble to take you son off your hands for tonight? Master Bruce has requested his presence this evening when he briefs Damian on their mission,”_ _

__She glanced at the boys who were now toppled on the couch, fighting for the phone, then back to Alfred. “Take him. Keep him. No refunds or exchanges though.”  
\------------------------------_ _

__The Super Son’s footsteps echoed across the Batcave floor, breaking the eerie silence. Jon’s head swiveled around to scan his surrounds. It never got old, walking around in this legendary place. He’s probably been here at least a gajillion times._ _

__Jon turned to his friend and nudged his arm for attention. “So.. you nervous?”_ _

__Damian chuckled without humor. “For the mission? Of my father? Jon, I think you know the answer to that,”_ _

__“Uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck under his grown out hair as he thought of an answer. “Maybe a little?”_ _

__Damian’s facial expression dropped into a look that read, _Really?__ _

__“Boys,” Bruce’s stone voice came from the Batcomputer where he sat, cowl down as he analyzed case files. Jon and Damian continued their steps and stopped just behind his chair. “I have the information you need for this mission all pulled up. You need to focus on dissecting this case and make a plan beforehand. You can’t go in blind, or you will fail and the information you need to shut down the new operation H.I.V.E has going on will be lost.” he stood from his chair and faced both of the boys. “Nightwing and I know you can handle this. But this is different from any of your other missions you’ve had in the past. I suggest you get to work now.”_ _

__And with that, he walked to the Batmobile and pulled his cowl over his dark hair and was gone._ _

__“Tt,” Damian broke his gaze away from the vehicle as it roared to life then sat down in the chair. “How inspirational. Let’s get to work.” he smirked and cracked his knuckles as they buckled down and begun to go through every single aspect about the case until before Jon knew it, it was past two in the morning and he physically couldn’t keep his eyes open._ _

__Some hours later, Jon woke up to the sound of Damian’s cup of tea being knocked off of the desk and they both startled awake. Jon read through bleary eyes that it was now nearing 12:00 pm. Damian cursed at his now broken cup before he picked up the shards that were spread over the floor._ _

__“‘Afternoon,” Jon yawned and stretched his arms over his head, leaning back in his chair so that he was partially upside down. Damian grunted after tossing the cleaned up shards into the trash. “So, I never asked, but what time are we leaving tonight for the mission?”_ _

__Damian ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to get it out of his face. “As we said last night-”_ _

__“This morning, technically,”_ _

__“H.I.V.E’s operation is out of the country. Nightwing has given us the times and some security footage of when they are operating during the day and during the night; we have to arrive there at approximately 8 pm so that we have enough time to gather the info we need before our window to exit closes at midnight. If we don’t make it out of there by then, we _will_ be detected by their scanners and the mission will be a failure.”_ _

__“...Yikes..” Jon squeaked quietly, nerves deffinitely not spiking at all. Damian rolled his eyes, but not in a harsh way._ _

__“Father may say that this is something we’ve never faced before..but don’t listen. Think of all we’ve done. This isn’t something we cannot handle. Robin and Superboy can handle anything.” Damian pulled Jon’s hand’s off from over his eyes._ _

__“You’re.. You’re totally right. Superboy and Robin can tackle anything,” Jon totally had to refrain from cringing at the way his voice cracked mid sentence._ _

__

__“ _Robin_ and Superboy.” _ _

__“Whatever, Dames-” Damian punched Jon’s arm when the teen laughed at the blush that colored the Boy Wonder’s cheeks from the nickname._ _

__“We need to get back on the case, _J_ ,” he quipped back as he plopped himself back into the computer chair._ _

__Jon stood suddenly, a sparkle in his eyes. “Orrrr,” he started, jumping into a fighting stance and Damian sighed in submission. To the training room they went._ _

__

__The Super Son’s trained in their new suits until their scheduled departure time at 4:30 pm. Jon was a little skeptical on how an official suit would feel, but once him and Robin started to spar, he quickly adapted to the material and grew to love it (he might even have to ask for a new Superboy suit for his 14th birthday..)._ _

__His and Damian’s color scheme were very similar. Dark greys, blacks and red. Damian bore a black domino mask instead of his usual green one, and his tunic was a dark grey rather than red, with armor similar to Jon’s. The Robin ensigma was red, along with the buttons and seams that ran down the front of the tunic. His pants were charcoal grey and black boots to match his gloves, and red accents stitched onto both. Jon thought they looked super ‘Mission Impossible’ spy-like._ _

__They only stopped their training once when Alfred forced them to go upstairs and eat something before they left for the night, then it was back to training._ _

__As it turns out, Jon was not light on his feet whatsoever. He was a clumsy, non-stealthy toddler who could probably be heard from a mile away and this is what concerned Damian the most. Jon could touch down from flying in the air pretty undetected, but that was just coming straight down. He didn’t posses the grace and stability that Damian did, but thanks to Alfred, Jon’s boots helped absorb most of the sounds made by his stumbling around. Damian still had much to work on with Jon, and they went over hand signals for communication for if in theinstance it would be too risky to use the comms or talk outloud. Jon (as many have told him, not to brag) was a fast learner and with what little time was left before the mission, crammed lots of knowledge into his brain so that he wouldn’t completely screw up that night. It was basically like school._ _

__“Remember: check for traps, check for cameras, scan for audio sensors and guards. You’re the main eyes and ears of this team.” Damian walked smoothly to his jet, opening the door to climb right inside. The jet was better than military grade and had top of the line cloaking devices and sensors._ _

__“Man, what an honor,” Jon followed close behind. They both buckled into their seats, ready for the flight ahead. Jon’s nerves were buzzing, but he thought it was now more of a form of anticipation than anxiety. He was confident, but ready to get things started. Waiting that whole day had been agony, and he was just ready to get things done. It didn’t help that their flight to H.I.V.E.’s base was an extra 3 ish hours away. Jon mostly played on his phone while Damian double checked his supplies and whatnot._ _

__Once they arrived over their drop point, Superboy took his partner in his arms before they jumped out of the jet to fly them to their entry point, provided by Nightwing._ _

__Originally, Nightwing was supposed to join them on the stealth mission. He promised he would be there if backup was needed, but alas, his Titans team needed his presence for their own business. Damian casually assured Jon that they didn’t need him for this anyways, and that the fewer people the better. Jon couldn’t disagree with that logic so he wasn’t too concerned._ _

__As they fell through the clouds at a rate controlled by Jon, Damian pulled up on his little wirsty techie thing (heck if Jon knew what it was) to a map of the base. Considering how low profile H.I.V.E. was trying to make this, the perimeter of the place was pretty huge. It only proved just _how much_ security and guards they had. _ _

__Damian told Jon there was a sewer pipe by the eastern wing that they could drop down into. Superboy began a nosedive as fast as he could go without breaking the sound barrier so that there was little chance of someone seeing them in the night sky. They touched down to the ground carefully after Jon scanned to make sure it was clear to land. With a few lazer beams to the bolts holding to lid to the sewer in place, they were in._ _

__“Got a flashlight, Robin?” Superboy asked, voice echoing through the long, musty smelling tunnel. Damian tapped the ‘R’ on his chest twice and a gloving light emanating from it. Jon’s jaw fell when he realized he could do the same with his. _Cool__ _

__The long walk to the specific ladder they needed to get to that led to panels and wiring that Robin need to be able to hack into their information networks was long and silent. And smelly._ _

__Jon thought about who they might encounter--if anyone. The goal was _not_ to come face-to-face with anyone involving H.I.V.E. But they still had to be prepared. Damian warned Jon about people who had previously been working with or within the organization such as Queen Bee, Damien Darhk, and Deathstroke. Jon knew how much bad blood his friend had with that man and secretly hoped that if they _did_ come across anyone, that it would be him. Maybe then Jon could give that creep a piece of his mind, and fist._ _

__“Stop here.” Jon halted. Damian turned to the ladder and began the climb with Jon hovering behind._ _

__“When we get up there,” Damian said once he reached the top of the ladder, just below a latch in the ceiling leading to one of the floors of the base. “You scan the area and cover me. If you can, we need to find out who’s involved in all of this and what their goals are. Who they’re involved with.”_ _

__So far, all they knew was that there was an increasing amount of migration towards Bialya, the riots and violent civil movements had caught Batman’s attention and assumed Queen Bee must have something to do with this. Recently, Red Hood faced off against her and captured her, but then she went off the grid. She may have plans to resume control over parts of the Middle East, like many other times before._ _

__Damian hooked up wires and cables into a very large electric box and started tapping away at his screen. Jon took this as his cue to fly around the corner to scan the surrounding rooms. He stopped short, realizing that there must have been lead lined in the walls, since he wasn’t able to see past his normal line of vision. This left him with his ears._ _

___”--will go through. As I promised, I will have control of the major factories in days to come._ A strong, feminine voice filled Jon’s ears. He tried hard to concentrate on another voice, with hints of a middle eastern accent (kind of like Damian’s when he was angry or started talking too fast) through what seemed to be static. There must have been a sort of video call going on._ _

___”I know you will. You have my warrior’s support, if persuasion against China’s president does not work._ Where has Jon heard that voice before?_ _

___Good, many thanks, Talia.”_ _ _

__Jon’s heart stopped. Dead. He’s sure it did._ _

___My partner and I will remain out of the country for now, until you have fully secured the nations we discussed. Then we can continue with our production of your design. I am very excited to test out the weapons, as I’m sure you are as well.” Talia_ spoke. _Damian’s mom.__ _

__There was a loud, bone chilling laugh. _”Oh, yes. Indeed I am. My drones here needed the upgrade. As do these pitiful, overrun nations.”__ _

___Jon flew quickly back to Damian, but kept in mind he needed to be quiet._ _ _

___Damian’s head turned to look at Superboy and could tell it was serious by the serious concern on his partner’s face. “Rob,” he whisper shouted “it’s-- Queen Bee isn’t just working with H.I.V.E., she’s working with your _mom_ too, and some mystery partner!” _ _ _

___Damian’s nose scrunched in disgust. “I should have known. Her stupid war, her stupid rebuilding of the League..”_ _ _

___“Queen Bee sounds like she wants to control a whole lot of countries.. She wants to upgrade her drones..? and Talia mentioned _weapons_. They need factories, they said..I guess that’s why she wants China—” Damian’s hand cupped over Jon’s mouth and Damian signed quickly, letter by letter ‘D R O N E S’._ _ _

___They could be heard faintly, down the corridor, heading towards them. Jon nudged Damian’s hand off of his mouth and turned around, trying to use his X-ray vision._ _ _

___He held up 5 fingers to Robin behind his back, but when he turned back the teen was gone. _Damn it, Dami_ _ _ _

___The Robin rolled bellow where the drones flew and with the flick of his wrist five small circular saucers flew to the drones undersides. He rolled out just as quick and urgently rushed back forward. “Catch the droids, I’ve disabled them,” Robin grabbed two, but struggled since they were kind of big. Jon grabbed the other three and set them down carefully. They both took a second to catch their breath before dragging the disabled junkbots out of the corridor._ _ _

___“Did you disable the cameras?” Jon asked wearily._ _ _

___“Of course,” Damian tsked. “But they won’t stay offline for long. We may have at most 10 minutes. I made it look like a system reboot, as to not cause suspicion. Go store these back down in the sewers, I’ll go ahead and try to hack into any of the cameras that may have caught footage of the full video chat between Queen Bee and my mother.”_ _ _

___“Are you sure?” Jon grabbed onto Damian’s shoulder before he could turn to leave. They locked eyes with each other for a second and Jon really hoped Damian couldn’t see how worried he was._ _ _

___“Superboy, you can _hear_ if something happens. And you can get there in a second. Plus, you’re too loud. If you go in first, you’ll screw up.”_ _ _

___Jon suppressed a laugh and nodded. He knows Damian can do it. He’s freaking Robin. They both turn away and Jon takes a few minutes to store the drones before the camera’s are back up and running._ _ _

___Luckily, he can hear exactly where Damian is and doesn’t have to fly far to reach him._ _ _

___Unluckily, Damian was now in the same room as Queen Bee and blonde woman who wore a white and red mask along with an assortment of weapons, including two holstered pistols. Jon had never seen her before._ _ _

___“My dear, Talia is a strong, capable woman. If she lies about her intentions, if she and Cheshire cross us, we do have an army capable enough to stop her. But it will not come to that.” Queen Bee walks around a long table to the other woman and hands her a cherry red drink, heels clicking on the floor._ _ _

___The woman nods reluctantly. “What about the Justice League?” she asks, british accent thick._ _ _

___“They,” Queen Bee responds, poison lacing her words. “Will soon learn that they are facing a real enemy. Our organization works well underground, connected in ways that they have not realized now and will not realize for a long time, until we are ready for them to know._ _ _

___Jon can hear Damian furiously multitasking, hacking into the cameras for footage while trying to send feedback to Nightwing or Batman. He’s crouched in the raftors of the room, which had considerably high ceilings even though they were underground._ _ _

___“Have we made any progress in China?”_ _ _

___“Sadly, no. But that changes tomorrow. Once I have their president under my control, those factories will be used for our needs.”_ _ _

___“Good.” The blonde sips her drink and sits on top of the table._ _ _

___“Also, we do in fact currently have wearabouts on most of those.. heroes. Chesire’s Ravens have given us good intel, and we’ll have them occupied for a while.”  
“A wild goose chase?” she smirked._ _ _

___“Precisely, Vic,” Queen Bee downed her drink in a fluid motion. “Smaller sacrifices must be made for the good of the hive..”_ _ _

___Jon felt utterly confused. He returned his attention to Damian, who was close to being done with saving multiple files of information and evidence. _He better hurry up.._ Jon bit his lip, seeing that the clock was ticking and it was already nearing 11:00. _ _ _

___But Damian still did not have the location’s of his mother or Cheshire. If he could just locate them, if he could just know _where_ the new League’s forces were, it would give them a huge advantage and closure. They weren’t leaving here without it, since this might be their only chance before the situation escalates._ _ _

___Minutes later, when both of the women departed from the room, Jon floated down from the ceiling and right into the room. He spotted Damian still in the raftors and was at his side in an instant._ _ _

___“Rob, we gotta get going soon-”_ _ _

___“I can’t find them.”_ _ _

___“Huh?”_ _ _

___“Ever since Grayson and Harper saw Cheshire at the docs, we haven’t seen her since. Completely off the grid. And she’s working with my mother..” Damian ground his teeth together angrily. “Always trying to destroy the world or bring it to order,”_ _ _

___“We can find out later, D. If you can’t find it now, you won’t be able to find it here.”_ _ _

___“Not unless..” he glanced up from his screen. Jon cocked an eyebrow in confusion as he stood, vaulted over the railing and slid down a column effortlessly. He hit the ground without a sound and padded his way over to a computer near the back of the room, past the long table. Damian got into it easily, quickly putting up firewalls to prevent anyone from knowing he was into the computer. He scrolled and scrolled through files, emails, news reports for a solid ten minutes before he froze. He froze on a picture that seemed to be taken in the desert. A plain desert, which looked to be east of Biayla. There, in the picture, was a small wooden sign with engraved letters. Damian zoomed into the picture. Engraved into the sign was arabic words that read ‘Demon’s Head’._ _ _

___Jon floated down to Damian. “Where is that?”_ _ _

___“I.. am not sure. Exactly..” he saved the picture.  
“We really need to get going, Robin. There still could be cameras in here, and we need to talk to Batman about all of this.”_ _ _

___“Well,” echoed a voice from the far end of the room. Both of the boy’s heads shot up at the same time. “It would be quite rude to _leave_ without even saying _hello_ first, wouldn’t it?”_ _ _

___Damian set his jaw. “Lady Vic.”_ _ _

___“And to think,” her smile was almost crazed, and very lethal. “You two children might have even gotten away, if I hadn’t forgotten my wine glass.”_ _ _


	2. Mother Knows Best, if Best is How to Conquer the Entire Middle East

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some more obvious damijon content in it! But, this story isn't mainly focused on that. It's mainly focused on them surviving being captured and having to do-- oh, well, you'll fin out in the chapter..  
> Also forgive me for any spelling errors hhh

The incredulous look on Jon’s face as his sky blue eyes widened gave way to the fact that he knew they were _definitely_ screwed. Monumentally. Screwed. In fact, Jon thought he might have ran through at least half of all of the scenarios on this going terribly wrong all within 2, maybe 3, seconds.

“Your mother would just _love_ to hear that you stumbled upon our operation, wouldn’t she, Damian?”

Even without Superboy’s x-ray vision, he could just see the way Damian’s jade eyes narrowed, _seethed_ at the woman.

“She won’t have to know if I take you down and place you in a prison where you belong.”

“Oh, lad,” Lady Vic laughed sardonically. “That’s IF you take me down.”

Jon was really hoping she would just realize she was outnumbered and maybe just give up.

But Damian was already charging in with a gut wrenching snarl, drawing his katana. Vic mimicked Robin and dodged his first attack before the two of them were a flurry of blades and angry grunting. It took a second before Superboy realized, _Oh, now would be a good time to start punching, wouldn’t it?_

He flew in with impressive speed, grabbing Lady Vic’s arm to throw her to the ground. Her reflexes were faster. Even if she couldn’t possibly loosen the Boy of Steel’s grip, she could still use her legs. In a swift motion of forcing Damian to the ground by a front guard*, she launched off of the Robin’s shoulder and kneed Jon square in the jaw, knocking him away with a loud ‘OOF’.

Damian was quick to regain his balance as always. He advanced, slashing upwards as soon as Vic landed back to the ground, causing her to hiss loudly when his blade sliced her right thigh and forearm. 

“Traitorous brat!” she all but howled, spews of curses spilling from her lips. They lunged at eachother once more while Superboy helped himself off of the ground. He shook his head, feeling his jaw lock back into place. Annoying, how he could deflect bullets without effort but when he wasn’t expecting it, someone could easily land a punch on him. Or kick. Whatever.

Then all of a sudden the sound of dozens of drones bombarded Jon’s ears. Seconds later, the door to the room was opening and they flooded in like a tsunami wave. “Rob, we’ve got more company!”

“You handle them,” he said through gritted teeth then launched a flurry of birdarangs at his opponent. “Use your lasers, they cant detect the color red!”

Jon grinned as his eyes heated up (that sounded really painful, didn’t it?) to a screen-red. “Well then, they don’t know just _who_ they’re up against!” he blasted through a line of them easily. His lungs sucked in a big swallow of air to then blow out against the droids. Almost as quickly as they froze, they either heated themselves and melted the ice or vibrated through it, but they were soon free. Jon sighed, resorting to just punching and lasering the whole lot of them.

But the waves just didn’t. Seem. To. Ever. Stop.

He took out five of them and 10 more hurried to angrily swarm at Superboy, shooting stingers and electric shocks. And although he was much too quick for them, frankly, Jon was tiring out as they started to come in more numbers of varying sizes..

Jon’s head swam. He never remembered when it started, but soon he was halfheartedly plowing down the bee-droids while trying to seek out Queen Bee--

Wait, no. No, no, why was he--?

Jon’s eyes screwed shut, trying to keep his thoughts from scrambling so much. He had the faint memory just then of reading about how Queen Bee could control people through her pixiedust pollen, or something like that. Jon really couldn’t remember now. He needed to find Queen Bee.

 _No,_ A small, rational part of his brain whispered to him. _you have to keep fighting. Destroy the droids. Protect Robin. Stop the baddies._

“Superboy!” Damian’s sharp voice cut through Jon’s internal debate. “Don’t breathe, get out of here!--Queen Bee’s pollen--” the teen was cut short by Lady Vic’s sword hilt butting him between his ribs, knocking the air out of him.

That really seemed to kickstart Jon’s foggy head. But he didn’t leave. No, not if Damian was in danger of being killed by that crazy british lady (Jon didn’t know that was something he would ever have to do).

How Jon had only just now realized that there was a bunch of pollen in the air, he wasn’t sure (not cool, what if he had allergies?! Kryptonians don’t have allergies but--oh, who cares). He blew another large gust of wind to temporarily disperse the yellow powder and dashed to grab Damian and set him a respective distance away from the room. 

“Head towards the sewers,” Jon coughed violently. He could feel the pollen seeping into his lungs, messing with his head. He needed to take down Robin, bring him to Queen Bee. He needed to capture Robin.

But the bird was already tackling him to the ground, taking advantage of Superboy’s daze. He aimed his katana to Jon’s neck and snarled, “Some Kryptonian _you_ are,” he tutted. “Not putting up much of a fight, are you?” his smirk was fierce and taunting.

“That flimsy little sword will _shatter_ against my skin, and you know it, Damian.” Jon fired right back, grabbing the blade to prove his point. It bent under his strength, sending the Robin into a fit of arabic curses. They rolled around, fighting for dominance until Superboy grew tired of it and lift them both into the air then threw Damian straight to the ground. There was a small crack of a bone but it only seemed to add fuel to Damian’s fiery rage. Explosive birdarangs flew up at Jon, expertly aimed. As soon as Superboy caught them they blew up, only missing one that lodged itself in the ceiling.

With a loud **BOOM** , the rafters fell ontop of the raven haired boy and he yelped in alarm as he struggled to lift the weight of 3 tons of steel. Robin leaped and dodged stray beams of metal when Superboy threw them off of himself, anger blazing in his eyes. 

“That the best you got, bat boy?” 

Damian smirked dryly, brushing small bits of burning wood embers from his suit. “No, absolutely not,” he reached for a pocket of his utility belt. _That_ pocket of his utility belt. The elder’s lips only stretched wider when Jon’s eyes widened. 

Robin’s gloved hands took out the rare, glowing green stone. Jon fought hard not to wince at the mere light of it burning his eyes.

And before Jon could let Damian get the upper hand (impossible, since he already freaking had it), before Jon had a chance to even think about it, he charged the vigilante. This must have not what Damian had been expecting, because he barely had time to get into a defensive position before Superboy drove his shoulder into his gut, knocking them both to the ground, Jon on top. 

He started punching even though each blow rapidly lost its strength and speed. Damian’s nose and chin was bleeding, dripping onto his uniform to fade into the dark colors of the fabric. Made it glossy. Soon it was Jon’s own blood on the suit after he made the mistake of punching Damians suit to find out that that fabric was _not_ in fact pleasant to punch. His knuckles were smeared with blood, a mix of his and his partners. Deep in the back of his mind, it made him want to throw up, made him want to cry. But he didn’t stop.

Not until Damian drove that shard of Kryptonite into his shoulder and Superboy let out an ear piercing scream, tears brimming his eyes from the pain.

And even though Jon was absolutely sure he had given Damian a concussion, the mighty Son of Batman hurled the larger boy off of himself to resume doing as much damage to the half-Kyrptonian as he possibly could.

He hauled Jon up by the collar of his suit, both of them swaying madly. Threw multiple punches in a row, repeatedly to his gut and head. They hurt. Jon’s shoulder _hurt_. He couldn’t give up though. He wanted to. He couldn’t but he _so freaking wanted to_..

And that’s when everything went to black, but it was far from the end of his suffering.

 

Because, Rao forbid, that even when Jon was knocked-unconscious-dead-to-the-world he couldn’t have peaceful dreams. He guessed later that it was one of the side effects from being drugged (pollened? Pollinated? WAIT, no, EW) by a weird bee lady. 

The feverish nightmare had started off bad enough.. complete with images of Jon beating his best friend senseless, blood streaming down his bronze skin, the kryptonite nowhere to be found: in other words, there was no way for him to stop the superhuman on top of him. No way to prevent the bones in his perfect cheeks from crushing under extreme amounts of force. No way to protect the sickening _crrracKShsk_ of his nose breaking and being pushed into his skull, _no way to stop Jon from killing his best friend_ \--

His dream shifted as the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. They flooded over a gravestone, he realized, as he opened his bloodshot eyes. His head was pressed firm up against it, unmoving but he knew just whose it was. 

_”You did it. You did this, didn’t you!?”_

Jon’s head whipped around as the sound of Dick’s voice. His heartbroken, wretched voice.

 _”I knew, I damn well KNEW you couldn’t be trusted to look after him on that mission! But I--I didn’t_ the former Robin choked off into violent sobs, Barbara, Jason, Tim, Alfred, Selina, Cass, Steph, Harper, Duke and Bruce appeared behind Dick to comfort him. Dick had been undoubtedly the closest with Damian out of all of them. Damian was Dick’s Robin, they were _true_ brothers. 

“I..Q-Queen Bee..” Jon started, eyes shut tight to will the tears back. “We-”

 _“No, Jon,”_ Tim Drake’s voice shook, with anger, disappointment and grief. _”You. It was all you. You didn’t HAVE to kill him. If you had just been STRONGER, like your DAD or KARA, he wouldn’t be dead! My little brother wouldn’t be dead!”_

The words hit Jon dead in his heart, and it hurt too, too much. He sobbed, biting down hard on his tongue to stop from screaming that he was _sorry_ that he was _so fucking sorry_...Jon isn’t his dad. He isn’t his cousin. He’ll never be as strong as they are. They would have saved Damian. 

_“I swore to keep my son out of death’s grip, after the first time he died,” Bruce lowly growled, oddly calm. “I.. I should have never, not EVER put his life in your hands. You’re only fourteen. You aren’t capable. You won’t ever be.”_

Tears kept spilling out from behind Jon’s hands. He couldn’t stop them, just like he couldn’t stop himself from _killing his best friend_ \--

_“I’ll never get to see his smiling face again..”_

_“The blood is on YOUR hands, Jonathan.”_

_“You fucking disgrace, you fucking hybrid FREAK!”_

_“JON!”_

“JON!”

The boy was shaken awake suddenly and Jon resisted the undying urge to scream. He could already feel the hot tears on his face and the prickly sensation in his eyes was just as intense as the clenched, suffocating feeling in his throat. 

He shot up off of the hard surface he had been laying on, incoherently sobbing in broken moans. 

“Jonathan, I’m right here, STOP yelling my name,” Damian placed both of his hands on Jon’s shoulders and held him in place. “I’m here. We are both here. Alive.” There was dried blood still on his suit, but it had disappeared from his face. His face looked fine.

“I.. I don’t want to alarm you any more than you probably are but, as of now, we are in one of my mother’s cellars. She had her medics treat you and I for any immediate injuries.” Robin made the mistake of glancing at where the green shard of readly rock had been lodged into Jon’s shoulder, and Jon looked too. There was a hole in his suit, cut to treat the stab, obviously. A big bandage covered most of the revealed skin there, presumably over a healing scar. Jon didn’t have the desire to look, anyways.

“You’re..God, Damian, I’m so, I’m s-so..” the boy choked on words and the hands that had gone lax on his shoulders tightened.

“I am fine. _We_ are both fine.. It’ll be okay..” Damian shushed him, bringing his partner close for a hug. Jon gently shook in his arms, but it was okay. It wasn’t _okay_ , but, it was expected. Normal. Even though none of this was normal. 

And when Damian said ‘we are both fine’ he knew the older of the two didn’t just mean physically, which loosened a lot of tenseness in Jon’s shoulder’s. They didn’t blame each other for what happened back at the H.I.V.E. base, and that cleared a lot of very negative thoughts in Jon’s cluttered brain.

He nuzzled into Damian’s chest to hear his heartbeat and the tears stopped flowing, coming to a stop minutes later (maybe more,Jon didn’t know how to keep time here..).

A thought pulled itself to the front of Jon’s mind, dawning on him that Damian wasn’t much of a hugger. Or a touchy person in general, unless it was to hit or taunt you. Part of Jon was confused as to why Damian was allowing Jon to stay close to him for this long (he knew Damian wasn’t heartless, but their rare hugs lasted for twenty seconds to a minute MAX), and the other part wondered if it made him uncomfortable.

“Do..do you want me to stop hugging you? Hugging really isn’t in your forte, D, so if you wanna..not..?” Jon coughed nervously, and Damian flinched, pulling away slightly. This disappointed Jon in the tiniest bit, not that he would ever admit it. He might have given it away with the slight clutch of his fingers onto Damian’s suit.

“If you’re ready to be done, then I guess.” he whispered almost blatantly.

“Oh, uh, I think.. Yeah, I guess I’m okay now,” Jon sniffed and hoped the embarrassment on his cheeks wasn’t noticeable in the dim light. He was making this way more awkward than it needed to be, and he felt bad about it (you know, having a nightmare about killing your best friend, waking up screaming his name, him hugging you and then you accidentally giving off the vibe that you didn’t want him to hug you even though you actually do? That type of awkward).

“Plus, maybe we should try to make a plan of escape?” he kept his eyes lowered, not wanting to see the hurt in Damian’s eyes that he knew was there.

“From my mother?” but Damian didn’t miss a beat, “Please, corn cob, we’d have better luck trying to find a decent tofu place.”

“..probably cause there arn’t any decent tofu places. Anywhere. Tofu is nasty, no matter where you get it,”

 

“How about I ask your mother to invite me over for dinner? ‘Oh, Damian, the guest, what would you like for dinner?’” Jon rolled his eyes at the imitation of his mom’s voice.

“Tofu. I would like tofu with a ceasar salad, dashed with kidney beans and gluten free bread on the side. Don’t forget the almond milk. Thank you, Mrs. Kent,” he said all of this while checking his secret compartments in his suit for anything left unchecked. The two hardest to unlock could be done only by the person wearing the suit. Both weren’t filled with any spare technology to help contact their dads but he did find a Cliff bar, a singular small dagger (probably for picking locks or stabbing eyeballs or something) and spare tools to fix his techie stuff.

Jon’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “A) who said my mom would ever invite you to dinner. B) My mom actually makes _amazing_ caesar salad AND bread, _grazie_. And, C) You aren’t even vegan, so why the almond milk?”

“Just to make you suffer, I guess,”

“If it was chocolate almond milk it wouldn’t be bad,”

“With tofu? Now, THAT is disgusting, Kent.” Damian smirked playfully and it made Jon giddy that even with all of the shit they’re suffocating in, they can still banter like they did with they first met.

Alas, the giddy feeling did not last. (That sounded poetic!)

Their cellar was being closed in on by Talia’s guards. Damian speedily hid his things back in his compartments before they got close. He straightened his posture and elbowed Jon for him to do the same. 

Then the cell doors opened up and they were being ushered out and around the corner, through twisty turvy long hallways and corridors. The walls were either made out of old stone or of compacted dirt and wooden panels, which really didn’t ease Jon’s nerves. The cellar had looked more secure than these walls, and Jon was actually longing for that comfort to return. Sadly, it didn’t. But thankfully, they were led into a room that was better constructed, with glistening stone walls and marble flores, detailed with mandala designs and floral shapes. The ceiling stretched up higher than Jon would have expected, and dim glowing lanterns hung down from the thick wooden beams of the tavern-like room. Columns lined sections on the walls, connecting to the beams. The main focal point seemed to be on a singular, crimson red velvet chair with gold trimming and dark wood frames, and Jon couldn’t identify what tree they came from. There, in a long, flowing green dress sat eloquently-as-ever, Damian’s mom, Talia al Ghul.

“My son.. I was really hoping not to see you this year.”

Damian tutted. “It’s great to see you as well mother. But I can’t find a reason to disagree with you. After the three times you visited me last year, I think I needed a break of about a year or two.”

Her perfectly lined, glossy lips curled into a dangerous smirk. “Your snarkiness grows by the day..”

“It really does,” Jon squeaked, nervously. He cursed himself. Why. Did. He. Speak.

“Ah, so you’ve brought along the Kryptonian boy that isn’t actually full kryptonian.” Her brown green eyes pierced into Jon, making him want to squirm but he didn’t and forced himself to try to level her stare.

“His name is Superboy.” Damian offered with a roll of his eyes. Jon almost panicked that his domino was gone, but these people had known Damian far longer than Jon had.. Not saying that it was a good thing. More like, it didn’t even matter.

“Hmm.” she said nothing more, but Jon could tell she was curious. They had met before. Twice before, in fact. Well, the first time Jon met her, he was barely eleven. The second time was last year, but he had only seen her from a distance in Gotham. Jon wasn’t fond of her at all.

“So, I take it you didn’t have prior knowledge of mine or Cheshire’s involvement with H.I.V.E.?” 

“No,” Damian muttered to the ground, “But I would by lying if I said I wasn’t surprised. The al Ghul’s have worked with Queen Bee before,” 

“She has the political image, we have the army,” Talia nodded, stepping off of her chair to walk toward the boys. She gestured for the two guards guarding the Super Sons to be dismissed and she walked onward, beckoning for them to follow. Jon glanced to Damian, shoulders tensed with both hands behind his back. Jon’s head screamed with questions and he just wanted to talk to Damian, but he knew better at the moment. 

The three of them walked into another suffocatingly narrow hallway then turned left, heading up a spiral staircase a few flights before finally coming to a stop in a room lined with computers and screens. Multiple men and women sat there typing away while they spoke to each other in foreign languages about who knows what.

“My dear son, you see, the people of the middle east are divided. There is not one reason for their confusion, for their separation. But there is one solution,”

Damian remained silent and instead chose to glare daggers into his mother’s back instead.

“Oligarchy. A small group of powerful leaders to see over their world. The people need safety from the terrorists that bomb their cities and kill their families. They all have a common enemy, but no means of an army to defeat them. We are that army..”

Jon wasn’t too convinced. Especially since the League of Assassins were not innocent saints who would peacefully rule after they have destroyed all of the terrorists in the world.

“But I need more artillery.That’s why, as you heard from your eavesdropping, we need China and it’s factories,”

Damian’s lip twitched distastefully. “Factories full of workers who are underaged, underfed, underpaid and overworked?”

Talia stopped her walk down the lines of computers abruptly and turned to glare at her son. “You are here, _alive_. That Kryptonian of yours is _alive_. Watch your tongue.” They stared each other down for an uncomfortably long time and Jon coughed, bringing Talia back to her monologue. 

“Time’s are changing, my dear boy. Queen Bee has offered blueprints to modify some of her drones to place into the factories at little cost to us.. ‘Worker Bee’s’, she calls them. Very clever indeed,” It was so corny, Jon pursed his lips to hide the smirk pulling at his lips.

“And the revolutions in the surrounding countries, well, Queen Bee has her way with men. Revolutionist parties were quite easy to get into contact with, and persuading them to take action now was even simpler. The surprising desire to be unified into one country is quite overwhelming, but we’re giving the people what they want. A single, united nation that is strong in numbers and in will,”

“People are dying,” Jon whined, grabbing Talia’s attention for sure. “They..they’re wrapped up in something bigger than themselves and they’re dying for it,”

Talia stopped walking in her line to observed a young woman’s computer screen, reviewing multiple news broadcasts at once, all in different languages. “An honorable death. Fighting for the future, fighting for what you believe in. We will be a nation of true warriors, that is guaranteed.” The broadcast taped people multiple Middle Eastern countries, bloodied and broken. Buildings in ruins. Mother’s shielding their children, using anything they could to tend to their wounds since there was not enough EMS to respond to all of the chaos. Men with guns stormed political buildings, shouting passionately and freely. Riots and protests were rampant, almost on every street. Signs that Jon could not read but assumed they all read along the lines of wanting freedom, wanting change.

It made Jon wonder how many people they could have saved if they had begun to interfere earlier than now…

“You two,” Talia snapped to grab their attention, placing it back on her. “Will be my metaphorical accelerators. These ordinary people who revolt know not of political advances. They cannot formally overthrow the government, just force it to its knees. You will go into these broken countries and rebuild them. Capture the government officials and deliver them to me. Rally the people, but calm them. Promote our image.”

“And what if-”

“No. There is no choice, unless you wish me to deliver both of your heads to your fathers. You _will_ comply, and you will do this right. There is to be no sabotage or propaganda against our cause. I am sending in some of my most elite guards to accompany you, and I will require reports everyday. Do not be surprised if I drop by the area.. And if you _do_ contact any one of the League or your hero friends, it will cause certain death for you all, as they will fall right into a trap.. Now, do you understand and accept my offer?”

Not like they had much of a choice, but the answer was yes, they would. 

At least they got their own room that night and didn’t have to go back to the cellar. A windowless, dimly light tavern with two king sized beds and a full bathroom, both with beautiful murky brown granite tile. They were brought dinner as soon as they were done with washing up (Jon was surprised with how nice the bathroom was and how the towles smelled warm, like cinnamon and spicy hot cocoa), plates full of Arabic cuisine which honestly didn’t appetize Jon too much. He wasn’t big on foreign foods, unless it was chinese take out or his mom’s Italian food. But he ate it anyways, and he was starving so he ate a ton, and couldn’t lie when he told Damian it wasn’t half bad. But he did have to chug _lots_ of water when he consumed multiple spicy falafel at once. Damian didn’t have too much luck with getting anything to eat that he wanted. Most of the dishes were mainly centered around meat, so he settled with Fattoush. All in all, it was pretty decent hospitality for being held against your will underground who-knows-where, that was for sure.

When it was time to settle down for bed at around 10 ish (which was.. Pretty late. Jon remembered being captured around elevenish eastern time [six in the morning for them], the night before, and he doesn’t think they woke up until 8 hours later, so the time had to be 2:30-ish. When they had eaten dinner, they had only been away around 3-4 hours..Their sleeping schedule was off to say the least), Jon fell into his bed face first. It was soft and comfy, and he was sure he would sleep fine on it, if he could stop worrying over everything that’s happened and what’s going to happen.

He exhaled a long sigh that was muffled by the dark blue comforter and pillows trimmed with gold designs. There was a minute of silence before a weight made the bed dip a tiny bit and Jon lolled his head to the side to look at his partner. 

Damian looked tired, dark circles under his eyes beginning to surface. His posture sagged and he didn’t seem like he could be awake for much longer.

“Do you.. By chance have any sort of a plan, Dami? Cause, uh, I don’t.” Jon chuckled half-heartedly.

“No,” he sighed heavily. “There isn’t much way of contacting anyone from the League, and if we could, would it really be the best idea? My mother means business..if she says there will be a trap waiting for them, there will be, and it won’t be easy to get out of. I just.. I don’t know, Jon..” he trailed off, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. His jade eyes wandered off into deep thought and it was worrying Jon a bit too much. They’d find a way, but they just needed to rest and gather their thoughts first.

Jon patted the spot on the bed next to himself and reached out for Damian, tugging his wrist. “Stop brooding. This all sucks, it all realllllly sucks but this might be the only.. Free time? We get. We should use it to recuperate, and I can _see_ just how tired you are so don’t even give me that face,”

“..You sound like your mom…” Damian grumbled before lying down on the mattress facing Superboy. 

“She’s pretty wise,” he smiled to himself bitterly. His mom must be worried by now. They haven’t made contact, they haven't come home. He doesn’t want to think about how she’s probably up right now, maybe crying, but probably shouting at someone capable enough to find her baby boy and bring him home safe. 

Damian grabbed hold of Jon’s right hand suddenly and squeezed it gently, “Hey, you just told me not to be sad, but look at who’s crying,” the tease had no malice, and there was a softness to his words. Jon didn’t even know his eyes had been watering, but there was a few drops that had in fact dropped from his lashes onto his cheeks and peppered the comforter underneath them. 

“Oh,” he barely acknowledged the tears, but still appreciated Damian’s hand over his own. At least they were here together, as a team. They trusted each other so much, and Jon easily felt 200 times safer anywhere he was if Damian was there too. It was such a cheesy thought, actually. 

They kinda just looked at each other for a second or two, or maybe a minute, maybe just a split second.. Not that it mattered. Jon felt bad because he could see how concerned Damian was when he looked into his soft, almond shaped eyes. But Jon felt worse because he knew Damian was concerned for him. Jon didn’t need him to be, they both needed to just let go of that for now. 

“Earlier.. earlier you had a nightmare. You were screaming my name, and when you woke up you were completely shaken up. You seemed to recover quickly, but I just wanted to ask if you’re fine.. or if you wanted to.. talk about it..?” The words made Jon do a double take. Damian usually wasn’t so concerned (okay, that’s a minor lie. Damian does get concerned over Jon, but now it was really becoming obvious, because before it had just been subtle), and he was usually so weary about feelings and emotions. But the pad of his thumb ran across the back of Jon’s hand in small circled that sorta tickled. Jon couldn’t find a good word to describe how the older teen was acting. Out of character, sure, but.. That’s not it. 

He swallowed before whispering a small description of his dream in a shaky voice. The dream was still so fresh, still vivid in his head and it hadn’t exactly bothered him up until now, now that he was thinking about it again and revisiting those thoughts. He expressed everyone’s reaction to Jon killing Damian, and how it just wouldn't stop and how no one would understand or forgive him. How could they? He stole a piece of their family away. 

“I dunno, Dami.. what if.. What if I had hurt you worse than I did? What if I actually _did_ kill you?” he tried to hide in his dark curls of hair at the way his voice broke as he spoke the last sentence. “I couldn’t ever forgive myself. I.. I wouldn’t be able to _live_ with myself knowing--” 

“Stop,” he squeezed Jon’s hand, shifting closer. Jon could still feel the sting of tears in his eyes and realizes the feeling never fully left. “Stop trying to blame yourself for something you didn’t do, stop trying to blame yourself for something you would _never_ do,” his gaze bore into Jon, but he still kept his eyes down at their hands resting on the bed. “If you need to hear me say that I forgive you in order for your head to stop making you think you did something wrong, then I will. All of these false beliefs you have need to go away somehow. Damn it, you _are_ strong, and not alien strong. Actually strong. Your heart is so good, a-and pure, it’s not something easy to find. You get that from your father who has never told you that you weren’t good enough or that you’ll never be as strong as he is. You’re stronger than you know. 

“My family would never say these horrid statements. They adore you, Kent. It’s weird. I don’t blame them because they aren’t in the wrong. You’re a role model. You’ll surpass your father one day, I’m _sure_ of that. Take away from this experience that you need to work on defeating your inner demons. They may not surface all the time, especially not for you, the cheeriest Kryptonian on earth,” Jon giggled at his eye roll. “But we all have them, and they eat us from the inside out if we don’t confront them. Don’t let your demons get the better of you, Jon, because it’s restricting you from seeing how amazing you really are.” 

With tears streaming down his face, Jon bridged the distance between them to somewhat slot his arms between Damian’s to pull him in for a tight hug. Jon hugged him as tight as he could without possibly injuring him, smiling into his chest. “Thank you. I..I don’t think I could have asked for a better friend than you, D,” his blue eyes fluttered closed when Damian wrapped his arms around him to return the somewhat awkwardly positioned hug. 

“Don’t ever expect me to say that sappy shit again, because I won’t, not even for your sentimental, self destructive ass,” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, batboy,” he lifted his head a smidge to look at Damian’s face, and laughed at his flushed cheeks. He always hated when Jon called him that instead of Robin to civilians. 

Jon laid his head back down against Damian’s chest, returning to listening to his heartbeat. _Buh-dum, Buh-dum, Buh-dum,_ a steady, strong beat. Soon Jon was out cold and didn’t have a single trouble with falling asleep. 

And this time, Jon slept through the night without any stupid nightmares. 

________  
____  
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*Front guard: guard where the sword is held vertically in front of your face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that chapter was longer than I intended it to be! But uh, I got carried away. I sometimes feel like I write Damian and Jon OOC and I think I do, it honestly bothers me, so if you feel the same, im super duper sorry. I'll try to work on that more..  
> Also yeah don't worry! We'll see Cheshire and Nightwing and others soon enough! I have a few characters that I purposely won't put in the tags because i'm 1) still debating on if I should add them, but I'm sure I will 2) it's a surprise!  
> And uh, It might be a while before I get the next chapter done? Exams, bro. Yikes.  
> side note: HA WOW JON IS REALLY OBLIVIOUS ISN'T HE "haha that nickname always makes him flustered and embarrassed!" yeeep, sure hun.

**Author's Note:**

> Oooo, I used characters that don't get used often! I'll keep adding characters and, as you can tell from the tags, you will get some more of Nightwing and Batman. Idk who else I may add, if I even continue this story! But I am pretty sure I will, since it is fun to write! I don't have anything planned out though, so I'm sorry if it takes a while for me to post. I probably should make a plan but who knows if I will?  
> Also, Disclaimer: I have only read smidgens of comics and wikis about Queen Bee, Cheshire and Lady Vic. I really hope I don't wrongly characterize them in this story, but bear with me. I'm really excited to write more with them! These gals will be recurring characters in the story, so stay tuned if you like these characters!  
> Another Disclaimer: I know that in a comic Cheshire k i n d a nuked a fictional country, so, idk if that will be cannon in this story? and the thing Damian mention about his and Dick's and Roy's team up about meeting Cheshire,, that was a real loose description of what happened, and this actually isn't connected with that encounter, technically. What i'm saying is, this is branched off from that encounter, separate from what happened afterwords in the comics. Did that make sense?


End file.
